PAIRING : Vampire/Slayer

RATING : NC17

SPOILERS : none

DISCLAIMER : I do not own these characters. Nor do I own “Unsuccessful Coping With the Natural Beauty of Infidelity” (Type O Negative).

WARNINGS : RAPE, BEATING, DOMESTIC ABUSE, NOT FOR THE LIGHT AT HEART

NOTES :  This fiction does *not* have a specific couple. You can read it for Buffy/Angelus, Buffy/Spike, Faith/Spike or Faith/Angelus if you want. It’s completely up to you. To find out the couple I had in mind, click here.

//Trust and you'll be trusted

Says the liar to the fool

Lust and so what if you're busted?

In love and war there ain't no rules//

                “Do you believe in forever?” I ask him. I don’t even know his name, and yet here I am in some skanky restaurant called L’amour. It’s Saturday night and this dress is two sizes too tight. “Do you believe in forever?” I ask him again, but I don’t even believe in tomorrow. How can I ask him such a question? It seems the only things that last forever with me are memories and sorrow. And pain.

                Out of sight, out of mind, right? But even though I can’t see him, I know he’s there. I *know* he is. I can feel him inside my bones, starting at me with daggers. But as long as I’m here, surrounded by people, he’s won’t show his true colors. He’ll just stare. But at home, I’ll learn the motto of betrayal. The prophets preach to forgive and forget, I’m sorry, but I am unable. And so is he.

                He is crass and cold and his pain hurts, hurts worse than anything I’ve ever felt before. Every blow is worse than the one before, and stings long after the bruises have healed. And I keep going back. How sick is that? I keep going back, begging on my hands and knees (literally). I let him chain me up, beat me up, and fuck me up. All because I love him. *That’s* twisted. It’s the worst part because I really do love him. I just wish he was able to love me. I don’t think he’s capable.

                And it’s *because* he’s not able, I come to these bars, dressed with red nails, lipstick and tight dresses. I come here because the people here may not love me, but they touch me gently. They don’t aim to hurt me. He does. And part of me wants it to hurt, thinks it should. After all I’ve done, after all I’m responsible for, part of me thinks I should be in pain. So I take it. I can’t kill him, and I can’t kill myself. So I come here and feel a human’s soft touch for an hour, and I go home and suck up every punch and nasty word, because deep down inside, I know I deserve it.

                “I do.” My companion says before jamming his tongue down my throat.

                “Huh?” I choke out, as he slides his hands up my skirt. And every time they touch me for the first time, I can’t help but flinch, because I know they shouldn’t be touching me. I know I’m potentially signing their death warrant, and part of me is dark enough not to care.

                “I do believe in forever.”

                “Well I don’t.” I state, as I let the sheer magnitude of my words weigh on me. “And since I don’t, let’s get out of here and stop wasting time.” If anyone should believe in forever, it’s a slayer. Shouldn’t I? I *know* it exists. He’s proof of that very existence. Gods I wish he wasn’t.

                Fucking bitch! She thinks I don’t see her there, thinks I don’t know of her treachery. Yeah, I’m a vampire, but it still hurts. Doesn’t she know how enjoyable the pain could be for her, if she just gave in to it? BUT NO! Fucking bitch has to come here and act like a slut. WHORE! CUNT! I know you’re fucking someone else bitch! YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM ME FOREVER BITCH!

                I know she is. She does every week. After all I give her, after I do for her, she has to fuck someone else. A new one every week. BITCH! It stops this week. I won’t smell another man’s cum on her again. I follow them to the motel. They go inside and I walk to the door and I kick it in and scream. “I KNOW YOU’RE FUCKING SOMEONE ELSE BITCH!”

                He swears and scrambles to get out of her. She just stares back at me, empty eyes. She’s been expecting me. “What of it?” She asks me, smiling. I grab the guy and snap his neck and she barely flinches.

                I walk to her and crack my hand to her jaw. She flies back and hits the table with her skull, and falls to the floor. “CUNT! WHY THE FUCK DO YOU DO THIS TO ME? YOU’RE A FUCKING WHORE!”

                She struggles to stand, but I walk to her and kick her hard in the gut. She groans and I kick her again, this time my boot makes contact with her cunt and I think I heard a bone break. Good. I bend down and grab her by the hair. I drag her back to our place, clothes left in the motel. The dirt grinds into the wounds, and as I drag her down the road, the gravel scrapes up her body.

                It hurts. Not as bad as it has. I think my pelvis is broken. Is that possible? Somehow, I always ask myself that after one of these possessive bouts with him. Funny, these are the only time I know he truly cares. How fucked up is that?

                We get back to our place, and I don’t even try to fight anymore. He throws me against the fireplace and I crack my back on the bricks. “YOU HAD COCK ON YOUR MIND AND CUM ON YOUR BREATH!” He rages. He’s pulling out the chains. He’s pissed. Next will be the trunk, I’m sure. “INSERTED THAT DIAPHRAGM BEFORE YOU LEFT! THAT WON’T ERASE HIS SCENT FROM YOUR SKIN!”

                “Fuck you!” I spit, and his boot collides with my face.

                “SLUT!” His words sting. “You’re no good for anything but a fuck. Even *you* know that, Bitch.” He grabs my hair and yanks me up and I cry out. “That’s it, my little Cunt, let me hear you scream.” But I don’t wanna give him the satisfaction. So I make a resolve to close my mouth, and keep it that way. But that theory is shot, when his pants are down and he forces his cock down my throat. “SUCK IT, BITCH!” He growls. And he holds my head tight and fucks my mouth hard. One time he fucked me so hard, he broke my jaw. Luckily slayer healing took care of that in a matter of a week.

                I wonder what will get broken tonight.

                “Why do you fuck other people, Bitch? I wouldn’t have to do this if you just kept your place. Do I have to chain you to the bed? Huh? Would you like that?” I ask as I slam into her mouth. I can feel her trying to spit me out, but I just hold her head tighter, and drive into her harder.

                “You’ve done it before, Cunt. You’ve run around on me before. Time after time. Refused to learn your lesson, and I’ve been more than generous with you. I gave ‘til it hurt. Thought it was right, only fools make mistakes twice. You won’t leave this house again. You’re MINE!” I say, forcing her to swallow my cock and cum. “That’s it, Baby. Drink it down.”

                I look down and a little dribbles down the side of her mouth. “CUNT!” I slap her face. “I’M NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU NOW? YOU’RE ALL OF A SUDDEN TOO GOOD TO DRINK MY CUM?”

                “No.” She whimpers. Trying for sympathy, which is something I don’t have. I throw her down onto her stomach on the floor and grab her ass. “No… please… no.” She begs.

                “Who owns you?”

                “You do.”

                “WHO?” I grab her hair and jerk her backwards.

                “YOU DO.” She shouts. She’s trembling.

                “WHY DID YOU BETRAY ME? WHY DO YOU ALWAYS BETRAY ME?” I shake her violently as I thrust my cock into her ass. I can feel her tear and rip, and she screams and tenses as I do. “DO YOU LIKE THIS?” I scream in her ear as I pound into her ass. “YOU LIKE WHEN I HAVE TO DISCIPLINE YOU?”

                “No.” She whimpers. “No. No. No.” She’s crying. I *hate* when she fucking cries.

                “THEN WHY? ANSWER ME!” I’ve never gotten an answer out of her yet. I always ask, but she *never* answers me. She refuses to tell me why she does this to me. It could be so good if… NO. I fuck her harder. But she’s quietly absorbing the pain. “ANSWER ME!” I bellow. But she doesn’t. Fine. I stop moving inside her blood-covered ass for a minute. “Hands and knees.” I order.

                What the hell is he doing? This is a new one. Probably some new torture he’s cooked up just for his favorite slayer slut. I can still feel him deep in my ass as I bleed for him. He loves it when I bleed. All of a sudden, I can feel his fingers, feather-light touches stimulating my clit. I moan. I can’t help it. He’s never touched me that way, gentle. His other arm wraps around me and I can feel him gently caressing my breasts. I moan again as lust surges through me.

                I’ve never heard her moan like that, in pleasure. I didn’t think she could.

                His cock throbs inside me, but he continues rolling my clit between his fingers. His other hand slides down and he slips three fingers inside me. I’m not as wet as I was. (Rape usually doesn’t turn me on.) And I hate my body, because I’m getting wet. And he’s making me wet. He’s made me wet before, but it was just rough sex. This is… I don’t know what this is. I moan, and press back against him. He pulls out and slides back in, gently and I moan. “Fuck…” I groan as he strokes me slowly.

                He pulls out completely and I feel him slide inside my cunt. He’s so big and he drives me wild. Is this the same vampire that was just beating and raping me a minute ago? He pushes in slow, and goes deep. “Oh Gods…” I whisper, and I bite back the moan of pleasure. His fingers continue stimulating my clit, squeezing gently. “Mmm…” I whimper. And he stops.

                What the fuck am I doing? SHE’S ENJOYING THIS! She just fucking betrayed me and I’m giving her pleasure? She does feel good all hot and swollen for me. NO! I growl loudly and pull out. I stand up quickly. I grab her by the hair and drag her into the other room. I put the cuffs around her wrists, and hoist her up, until her feet are just barely touching the floor. I look into her eyes and they are still full of lust. Bitch. I punch her stomach and she sobs.

                “YOU WANT MY COCK UP YOUR ASS AGAIN, BITCH?” I scream, and I think I’ve finally done it. All hope, courage, strength, everything fades from her eyes and she grows pale. “DO YOU?” I scream in her ear, as I kick her cunt again. “DO YOU?!” I scream, as grab an extra chain from the floor and whip her with her. “DO YOU?” I crack the chain on her breasts.

                “I don’t care.” She whimpers, as she drops her head in defeat.

                I growl loudly and sink my fangs into her neck. I drink to my victory!

                Please kill me. I hope and pray he’ll just finish me. After feeling him almost making love to me, I can’t take this anymore. Please, Lover, kill me. I’m strong enough to kill myself. I’m not strong enough to kill you either. So please, “kill me.” Did that actually come out of my mouth? Did he hear it?

                What did she just say? “What?” I ask. I pull away and lick her blood from my lips.

                She shakes her head. “Nothing.”

                “What did you say?” I ask, sternly.

                “Kill me.”

                “What?”

                “KILL ME! I SAID ‘KILL ME!’” She screams. “I CAN’T KILL YOU! AND I’M NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO KILL MYSELF. PLEASE… KILL ME.” She whimpers, and the tears fall on her breasts.

                I just stare at her and back away. Suddenly I’m completely out of the room and I slam the door behind me. I run upstairs and slam the door to my bedroom. I need a drink. What is wrong with me? The fucking *slayer* is begging me to kill her, and I run? I RUN?

                I walk over to my liquor cabinet and take out a bottle of scotch. I open it, and guzzle half before sitting down. I have to figure out what’s happening to me.

//So you sit home

Drinking alone

Empty bottle in your hand

Don't even try

To sort out the lies

It's worse to try to understand//

                Where did he go? I don’t know. I don’t know if he’s sitting behind me with a whip or a torch, and I really could care less. I can only think about the way he touched me. Why? Why would he do that to me? Why would he touch me so softy, only to scream at me? Why would he bother being nice? Why would he touch me like he cares? His fingers were so gentle, stroking me so light.

                Gods I hate that I can’t kill him. And I hate that I can’t kill myself, but at least if he’s beating me, he’s not killing anyone else. Small conciliation. I hate that he does this to me. I hate that I think that I finally hate him, and then he does something sweet like touch my clit like he did. And I hate that he’s so erratic that he doesn’t know what he wants. I’m afraid of him with every bone in my body, and I hate that I love him just as much.

                I watched him one time when he was sleeping. I went into his room with a stake. I was going to kill him. I was going to try, anyway. But when I opened the door, and I looked at him, he was so beautiful, so peaceful. I couldn’t do it. I had a broken rib from him that day, and I couldn’t kill him. He had just raped me twice, and sodomized me three times, and I couldn’t kill him. I knew that day that I’d never be able to kill him, and that I’d take any contact he’d be willing to give. And I hate myself for it.

                Suddenly, I know he’s there, in the room. “You make me hate myself.” I say. And I realize how hard he hit my jaw, and it fucking hurts. But I’m in so much pain, I can’t tell if it’s really my jaw, or my pelvis that is causing the most pain.

                I know the feeling, Lover. ‘You make me hate myself.’ I know the feeling.

                I notice that I’m being unchained and he lowers me to the floor gently. Again, gently. “Please… just do it.” I beg.

                “What?”

                “Don’t be nice. If you’re gonna rape me, do it and get it over with.”

                “I’m not.” And my eyes hurts too much to open. He cracked me good this time.

                “Don’t tease me. I can’t take any more games. Just do what you’re going to do with me and leave me be.”

                “Fine.” And I’m expecting a mouthful of cock, or a fist up my ass, or a knife in my cunt, or something completely new, since he’s done all those things.  But instead, he picks me up gently and the next thing I know, he’s laying me on a bed, or a couch. I’m not sure where, because I can’t open my eyes. I stretch my arms out painfully. It’s a bed. He probably wants me on my stomach, or hands and knees, or on my back with my legs spread. I poise, waiting instructions. “Just relax. Lay down.”

                “What?”

                “Just relax.” And I feel something at my lips. He lifts my head. “Drink.” I do. It’s water. I drink quickly because I don’t know how much longer this will last. And then he’s gone and I’m left laying, waiting. And while I’m waiting, I fall asleep. I’m sure he’ll wake me up with his cock, or a whip of somekind when he’s ready.

                She’s asleep. She’s been sleeping for a good four hours now. I don’t understand what’s going on here. I don’t think I should analyze it too much, else she’ll probably get woken up being whipped by that chain. I’m not exactly sure what to do. This is new for me. The need to rip her apart and destroy her are heavy inside me, consuming. She’s the slayer. I’m a vampire. I’m supposed to kill her. I’m supposed to rip her in two and spit her back out.

                But I couldn’t break her. Could I? I thought I did, but I don’t think I did. She’s strong. She’s mine. I know that much. She’s mine. Why else would I get that upset? But if she’s mine, shouldn’t I protect her? I always have in the past.

                I sit on the bed, next to her and she moves.

                It’s time. Brace yourself. I open my eyes a little now and I can see him sitting there, looking at me. “What do you want me to do?” I whisper.

                “I can’t love you.” He says. I knew that already. “You’re the slayer, and I’m a vampire. And I can’t love you like you need me to.” Okay… this is scaring me.

He’s never even mentioned the L-word in my presence before. And before I have time to contemplate what he’s saying, I feel his hand slither under the blanket that I don’t remember having, and he rests it on my stomach. That’s right; knock me when I’m down. Go ahead. At least I understand that.

                “But you’re mine.” He states. “And maybe it’s taken too long to realize that.”

                “What are you saying?” I ask. “Cut to the chase.” I’m confused.

                “It’s simple really. You’re mine. And in the past, sure I’ve beaten what’s mine, but… not like this. I’ve never had anyone begging for death.”

                “I’m too tired to think right now. What are you saying?”

                “I won’t apologize. I can’t. And I won’t ever love you the way you need.”

                “But?” And all of a sudden his lips are on mine, and his tongue is silently seeking entry. And oh Gods, he’s *never* kissed me. Ever. Never. Which is good, because a kiss to me is something personal and private, and when someone is raping you, you’re not into sharing all that much. But this is different.

                And I feel him pulling the blanket away, and I feel his hands running over my body, gently, softly. And I mewl in pleasure as he tickles the sensitive skin under my breasts. His hand slides down further and nudges my legs apart gently. And if this is a trick, I hope he kills me. But he gently caresses my outer lips, and I can feel myself getting wet at the sensation of his mouth on mine, and his hands on me.

                She’s so soft. I never realized how soft she was. Her lips are soft, and her tongue is amazing. I brush her soft palate with my tongue and she moans. I brush her nipple with one fingernail, and it pebbles. She spreads her legs further for me, and I push one finger inside her heat, and I don’t think she’s ever been this wet.

                It’s amazing, really. She’s so hot, and she clenches my finger inside her and whimpers in delight as I seek her g-spot out. “Oh Gods,” she moans and arches into me and she feels so good. I slid my lips down her jaw, gently (I know I hit her hard.) My mouth makes its way to her breasts and I lave her nipples, and suckle them and she sighs in satisfaction.

                My thumb brushes her clit and she whimpers louder. Her fingers are wrapped in my hair, holding my head to her breasts. And I continue my track downwards. I’ve never smelled her so aroused before; she’s never been this sweet.

                I lick her sex once and she whimpers, arches into my face. I push my tongue inside her, tasting the blood from earlier. I lick it away, trying to fix some of the damage I’ve caused. I shouldn’t care, but dammit she’s mine.

                Her hands are in my hair, pushing my mouth into her. I’ve never done this to her before. I wonder if anyone has. The way she’s whimpering, I’d say not. “Oh, fuck…” she moans as he thighs squeeze me.

                I don’t ever want him to stop. He’s never done this to me, and it’s driving me mad. All pain has disappeared and all I can concentrate on is his tongue inside me. Fuck… I don’t care what happens to me after this, sodomy might just be worth it.

                Before I know it, I’m coming. Oh god, it’s… “FUCK!”

                She’s delicious. I lap at her juices as they flow like wine from her body. I wanna drink her again, but now my cock outweighs my mouth, and I crawl up her body. I look in her eyes, and they are filled with fear. She’s expecting something mean. She doesn’t know I can be gentle. *I* didn’t know I could be gentle.

                So I kiss her gently as I slide my cock inside her body, slow, deep and hard. She squeezes her vaginal walls around me, drawing me in deeper. “FUCK.” I moan. I kiss her deeply and hope I’m not causing her more pain. I don’t understand this need I have to make her feel good, but it’s there, so I do.

                I pull out slowly and ease back inside her. And thus begins the slowest sex we’ve ever had. I gently stroke her insides as she moans below me, writhing and whining.

                Oh Gods… he’s inside me, deep. He starts moving, slowly, deep inside. Fuck… my back lifts off the bed, and he penetrates me that much deeper. “Oh Gods… please…” I beg, for what I don’t know. I just know I want something. I want him. I don’t understand. If this is just another game… he’s making love to me. Actually love. It doesn’t feel like sex. We’ve had sex before. That’s how this started. Sex. I had sex with him a few times. Then one night he caught me out on a date, and he went crazy. He started beating me. He raped me that night. After that it was a mix between lashings and sex. But this?

                “What?” He asks me, as his tongue licks my lips. “Please what?”

                “Harder, deeper… please…”

                I’m happy to oblige and I delve deeper. She wraps her legs around my waist and cries out in pain. I did break her bone. Her legs drop back on the bed. I’m sure it hurts too much. “Roll your hips forward a little.” She does and she moans as I thrust into her. I slide my hand down between our bodies and play with her clit, and she’s soon forgotten about the pain.

                “Please… let me come.” She begs, even now, I’m still in control. I can deal with that.

                “Okay.” I whisper as I spill my seed inside her. I feel her rippling around my cock as she comes. She’s beautiful as her orgasm rips through her body. I’ve never seen her more beautiful.

                I roll off her gently and lay next to her. I look over and she’s shaking, trembling and crying silently to herself.

                “Are you okay?” I ask her and she nods her head slightly.

                I’m trying to brace myself for his lash out. It’ll hurt less, if I’m prepared. His words’ll sting less, if I’m trying hard not to listen. His fingers will feel warmer, if I pretend they are. And if I close my eyes really hard, and pray, he won’t hurt me again.

                I wince when I feel his fingers on my cheek. The slap is coming.

                “I’m not going to hurt you.” He whispers. “Not unless you want. Not again.”

                Not unless I want. That’s laughable because I do want the pain, to some extent. But he takes it too far. “Why are you doing this? Why make… why do this?” I can’t say it. If I say the L-word, he’s liable to kill me.

                “I don’t know.” He kisses my cheek gently. “And I can’t promise… I just… you’re mine. Now and forever.”

                I have no idea how to understand this. I think some part of me will always be waiting for the punch, or the kick, or the chains. But he pulls me gently to him, and for once I can pretend that he loves me. And I think, somewhere deep inside, he must, else why would he do this? Why would he be gentle like this? Maybe he just can’t understand it. Maybe he can’t say it. Maybe he doesn’t even know. But I’ll take what I can. I have been for the past year. So yes, I’ll take what I can because, “I love you.” I whisper into his chest.

                “I know.” He whispers back.

~El Fin~

I WROTE THIS FOR:

I bought the CD and was reading the lyrics over for the song. I just knew it was a fiction song. At first I thought I’d write it for Faith and Spike, but I can’t make him very mean. Naturally I thought of Buffy and Angelus, but I don’t think he’d break her so easy. I think she’d have some fight in her. Whereas Faith, I believe, has some abuse in her past, so she’d be more likely to put up with it. When I wrote it, I saw Faith & Angelus.